Tuesday Night Restaurant
by brokenroots
Summary: Tuesday night. The restaurant. Lie or truth?


**Tuesday Night Restaurant**  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 2,775  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG-13  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Nico/Dani, reference to past Dani/JD  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x10.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Tuesday night. The restaurant. Lie or truth?  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I watched the episode so many times last night (over and over), loving the Dani/Nico interaction all the way through it. I had several fic ideas come to me, but this was the loudest/most obnoxious, so I wrote it out. And then the conversation didn't want to end. They kept talking. :P

* * *

><p><strong>Tuesday Night Restaurant<strong>

Dani turned her wine glass around slowly in her hand, shaking her head. She should have known. She _did _know. That was what brought her here, wasn't it? She had wanted the truth, and now she'd gotten it. She should be pleased. Well, maybe not _pleased, _but she knew now what she'd wanted to, and that was going to have to be enough.

She should pay and go. She had the answer. No sense in sitting alone in a restaurant for something that wasn't going to happen. She looked like a woman who'd been stood up by her date, and given how close she was to the front where the maitre d' was greeting guests, it just seemed all the more true, didn't it?

"You're running late tonight, Mr. Careles."

Dani jerked up straight in her seat, her head whirling around to get a look through the frosted glass behind her. Nico gave the perky blonde hostess his coat. "Caught up at work. If the usual table is unavailable—"

"Oh, no, we always have a place for you," the hostess interrupted, smiling warmly. Dani frowned. She didn't believe this. Had Nico paid her off? It wasn't real, was it? Dani wasn't sure what she thought about this. On the one hand, if the girl was telling the truth, then he really wasn't lying to her and this _was _his Tuesday night restaurant. If not, then... He knew she was here and was going to a lot of trouble to convince her.

She sighed, turning back to her wine. It wasn't going to solve any mysteries, but she stared at it anyway. Shouldn't she want to believe the best of him? So... He was telling the truth. That was good. Very good.

"Just a second, Marcie," Nico said, and Dani looked up again. Oh, no. He'd seen her and was coming over. "We meet again, Dr. Santino."

She forced a smile. "Nico."

"I wonder if you have become as fond of this restaurant as I am," he began, and Dani winced. He didn't have to draw this out, did he? She would just confess and be done with it. "I'd rather it was that than the alternative."

"That being what, exactly?"

"That you didn't believe me and you came here to verify that I do, indeed, eat here every Tuesday—at least when I'm in town and not dealing with a crisis," Nico answered. Dani shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under that knowing look.

"All right, fine. I did. I came here to check up on it. It was just too much of a coincidence, okay? I started wondering if you'd paid off the waitress, and I don't like having doubts and so I decided to settle them by coming here," she confessed. Then she put her head down on the table.

"Mr. Careles?" Marcie asked hesitantly. "Is there anything I can get you or your friend?"

"No, thank you," he told her. "I think I'll sit here, though, if Dr. Santino doesn't mind."

Dani couldn't really object from where she'd buried her head, so she didn't even bother. She heard Nico sitting down across from her. The booth might have been one of higher quality, but it still squeaked a little. Dani pulled her head up and composed herself as the hostess gave him a menu. A menu? Did he really need a menu if he came here every week?

"I'll go get your drink for you," Marcie said pleasantly, bustling off, and Dani frowned again. Okay, so... she _did _know him? And Nico was telling the truth? Why was that so hard to believe? JD had asked if Nico was a stalker, and she immediately denied it. Nico was every and nowhere, and some might misinterpret that as stalking—especially since he knew so damn much about people's personal lives, but he was not a stalker. He was informed and observant and paid to be that way.

"You're still suspicious."

Dani winced, again. She reached for her wine. "Forgive me if it seemed a little _too _convenient that you showed up at the same restaurant as me after grilling me about my date earlier the same day."

"I assume that he made the reservations. That had absolutely nothing to do with me," Nico said, looking over the menu and then setting it aside. "I should be offended."

"People think you're a stalker."

"I'm not, but I can see why they might think that. I told you that I never lie," he reminded her, again. She swallowed hard, feeling guilty and kind of like the scum of the earth. Still, this was _Nico. _Nico wasn't open. Nico didn't talk much. Nico made people disappear. Nico didn't give straight answers.

"Maybe not, but you _do _evade," she told him, and he nodded. She almost smiled, but there was no victory here. "You were really just here to eat? It had nothing to do with protecting a Hawk asset?"

He started to answer, but Marcie came back, setting a glass in front of him. He passed her the menu. "I am probably going to regret this, but let me have the special tonight."

"I'm sure the cook will make it just the way you like it," the girl said, and Dani found herself glaring at her. What was with the fawning? It wasn't like he was Marshall Pittman or anything. He was the power behind the power, but he wasn't _that _impressive on his own. "Anything else for you, ma'am?"

Dani almost cringed when she heard the word. "Another wine. Make it a big one. Huge."

With a slight smile, Marcie left. Nico drank from his glass, studying Dani for a moment. She fidgeted again. "I really just came here to eat. It has nothing to do with you being a Hawks asset. I assure you that if I had come here for the purpose of watching you on your date, you would never have seen me."

"You know that JD is gone, don't you? He's in the Congo."

"Yes."

"Did you have anything to do with that?"

Nico set his glass back on the table. "Exactly what are you accusing me of? Breaking up your relationship? Why would I do that?"

She didn't know. JD hadn't been any kind of threat to the Hawks or to her, and it wasn't like JD had said, _sorry, Dani, going to the Congo, too bad for you. _He'd asked her to come along, but her life was here. He'd recognized it and accepted it like a gentleman. "I... don't know."

"Are the any other matters on which you distrust me and would like to clarify since you're out for the truth tonight? I am not sure I can furnish the proof that you require, not here, but I am willing to sit through your interrogation. You have as long as it takes me to eat."

"So I get to ask you any question, and you'll answer it truthfully?" she began, and he nodded, though she could see a bit of tension in the way he gripped the glass when he picked up again. "Anything at all, for as long as it takes you to get your food and eat it?"

He nodded again. "Yes."

"You won't get up and leave before finishing if you don't like a question?"

"No, though I reserve the right to delay my answers for any and all reasons I choose."

"Deal." She sat back in her chair, feeling powerful and a bit overwhelmed. There were so many things that she could ask him, so many things that he'd said nothing about. He was almost a complete mystery, and she barely knew where to start. "What was the name of your wife?"

"Mrs. Careles."

Dani shook her head. She should have known. "Are all your answers going to be like that?"

He smiled a little. "Not necessarily. However, part of my agreement with my former wife was that we have no further contact, and I would include a call from a curious therapist in my definition of 'contact.'"

Dani made a face. "Fine. How long were you married?"

"Long enough to know it was a mistake."

"Nico! Those aren't answers," she said, though she couldn't help laughing a little. He shrugged a little. Marcie came by and set the wine on the table. At least this time she didn't seem to be fawning over Nico. She left as quickly as she came, and Dani took a sip from her wine before she tried to ask another question. "Every Tuesday?"

"Would you like to meet me here every time to prove it?"

"Maybe," she said, and then her eyes got wide and she opened her mouth a little. She swallowed and reached for the wine. "I don't know why I said that."

"If you were really a fan of the food, it might not be a bad idea. We could discuss whatever issues were facing the team at the time."

"Only I can't discuss my sessions with patients, and you know everything already, so what would the point be?"

"You are free to discuss the general status of your patients, and while I would like to consider myself knowledgeable, I do not know everything," he corrected, amused. She nodded, drinking more of her wine. Nico could have been unreasonable about the whole thing, but he'd been rather patient. He was still being infuriatingly vague about his answers, but he _was _answering, just like he promised. It was almost a fun game.

"Would you add in a bit of this to the Tuesday meeting?" she asked, then clarified, "this Q and A of ours?"

"That might be possible, though it can't always be about me. Even I have limits."

"Okay, but you know everything about me already," she said, regretting her decision to only have a drink. She was starting to feel it a little, and that was not a good sign. Then again, she was with Nico. He'd protect the asset she was and get her home safe, wouldn't he? "All right... Another question. Would you really have made JD disappear?"

"What do you mean? I thought only magicians and killers did that. I am neither."

Dani didn't really think Nico was a killer, but she was starting to think he was a bit like magic. It was the way he knew everything and always seemed to be where he needed to be at the right time. "Okay, rephrase. Under what circumstances would you have made him disappear?"

Marcie returned to give him his food before he answered. Dani drank more of the wine, wondering if she was the only one working or if she had some kind of crush on Nico or something. She was a little _too _attentive for Dani's taste. The girl waited for a moment, long enough for Nico to take a bite. "Well? How is it? Good?"

"Nothing compares to the one I'm used to, but this is the closest anyone has come," Nico agreed, and Marcie beamed before she left.

"Does that girl have any brain cells left? She smiles like she's on drugs."

"Marcie is a people person. And she likes me because I helped diffuse a situation with an angry and potentially violent customer. She always insists that she's in my debt, so she makes my meals as pleasant as possible."

"But not like Mom's home cooking?"

"My mother didn't cook. You have gotten two freebees, and I think I might decline to answer your other question."

"If you are going to make the men in my life disappear, I kind of need to know so that I can warn them," she told him. "They need to know to be on their best behavior."

"That should happen regardless," Nico said, taking a bite. She couldn't quite figure out what it was that he was eating—some kind of pasta with an oddly orange looking sauce—she was used to white or red, but maybe this was a mixture of both.

"True. But what would it take to make you feel you had to make someone disappear?"

"Unwanted advances or harassment. If it became violent, paying him off or arranging another location would be too good for him. So, if your friend had refused to accept that it was over, then I might have relocated him. If he physically hurt you, I would use Xeno to make him regret it before I turned him over to the authorities."

"Do you do this for all your assets?"

"Pittman owns teams. Teams are made of people. People are vulnerable. If a player is injured, they are costing Pittman money. It's a simple equation. Take care of the people, and they will be free to make money."

"Right. But harassment?"

"Would you say that a stalker is any less damaging to a person's well-being than an actual physical assault? Sometimes the constant fear can take a far heavier toll than any amount of violence. It is usually the fatigue that gets a soldier long before the enemy does. Hyper-vigilance means a sacrifice of sleep and relaxation, and that will catch up to you eventually."

"Why did Pittman ever hire me? He has you."

"I am not a licensed therapist."

"But you understand the concepts—even some of the methods—and you use them."

"I understand basic physiology, too, but that does not make me a doctor or a trainer or even a coach. We all have our roles to fill. Perhaps you make my job... easier," Nico offered, and she looked at him, leaning back in the booth.

"I do?"

"How many glasses of wine have you had tonight?"

"You should probably drive me home, but I think I may never have another shot at talking to you like this, so I figure I'm going to keep asking questions until I pass out. I don't remember what we were talking about, though. Oh, I have a good one."

"I was a navy SEAL, and I did see some combat. I have killed."

"Really? I... That wasn't what I was going to ask, but I should have. Why are you giving me freebees?"

"I think you might not remember this tomorrow."

"I'll be embarrassed when I realize that I came here to prove that you didn't come here every Tuesday," she admitted. She kicked off her shoes under the table and stretched out her toes with a moan. "You never lie. But if you could do me a favor and tell me tomorrow that I didn't make a fool of myself tonight, I'd appreciate it."

"You haven't yet. I don't have to lie."

"Would you make someone disappear if you were interested in me? Or someone else. It doesn't have to be me. If you were interested in a woman, would you make the competition disappear?"

"If I had to make the competition disappear, then I wouldn't deserve the woman in the first place. Besides, some birds fly better solo."

"Or they think they do."

Nico reached across the table for her wine glass. "I think you've had enough."

"Not quite. I was thinking about it. You were nice to JD. I made it awkward, didn't I?"

"You suspected my motives and were quite pointed with your questions."

"I'm sorry."

"I was the one intruding," he said with a shrug. He picked up his fork and put some of the pasta on it, then handed it to her. "Eat. If you have food in your stomach, it should soak up some of the alcohol and help clear your head a little."

She ate it, still unable to figure out the sauce. "Would you feed me every Tuesday if we did the meeting thing?"

Nico took the fork back and prepared another bite for her. "I would hope that you wouldn't end up drinking too much while waiting for me or because you were uncomfortable. I might be willing to let you try my food though, if you were really curious."

She smiled. "Let's do this every Tuesday, then."


End file.
